Living For You
by forgiven
Summary: It's Edge and Christian's first holiday season without each other, and the holiday blues have hit both brothers hard.
1. Edge's POV

Title: Living For You  
Rating: PG-13 (angst, language, suicide, character death)  
Disclaimer: E&C don't belong to me- apparently Santa didn't get my Christmas list. All lyrics copyright of Creed (gotta love that angsty Scott Stapp) Used without permission.  
  


**Part 1**  
**Edge** 

Downstairs, the doorbell rang again and I groaned and buried myself deeper under the sheets. Whoever the hell it was, they were just gonna have to come back later. Like in another month or two. This was without a doubt the worst damn holiday season I'd ever had, and I wasn't in any kind of mood to entertain guests. Probably just a vacuum cleaner salesman going door to door anyway. It's not like I actually had any friends left to come calling. My own brother- Christian, Rhyno, Kurt, hell even Jericho, had all turned their backs on me in one way or another. 

The idiot downstairs stopped ringing the bell and started banging on the door. 

"Fuck!" I swore and turned over in bed, prying my eyes open to look at the clock. Who the hell was pounding on my front door at nine o'clock in the morning on New Years Day? I stumbled out of bed and tripped over the sweaty sheets that were still wrapped around my legs. The pounding downstairs grew more insistent, so did the pounding in my head. I had welcomed in 2002 by sitting all alone in my dark house quietly drinking myself into oblivion, I couldn't even remember making it upstairs to my bed, but obviously I had. More banging on the door, more banging in my head. 

"I'm coming," I grumbled to myself, trying to convince my uncooperative body to move. 

I untangled the sheets from my ankles and legs and finally made it downstairs, tripping only twice more, before my sleep and drink fogged mind finally managed to communicate to me that I had no clothes on. I swore under my breath some more and grabbed a towel from the downstairs linen closet to wrap around my waist. 

"This had goddam well better be important," I snarled as I opened the door, then stood in shock as I saw who was standing there. Of all the fucking nerve- I slammed the door shut in Christian's face, and he immediately began pounding on it again, simultaneously ringing the doorbell. I shut my eyes and covered my ears, groaning. It felt like a freight train was thundering through my head.

"God, I'll never drink again, just please, make him stop," I pleaded. Christian continued banging away and then began shouting through the door. I lowered my hands from my ears in defeat and ripped the door open again.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked my little brother.

"Edge, please. I need to talk to you." His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them. His hair was a dirty, greasy mess. He looked worse than I felt. Good- I hope he felt worse than he looked.

"What is it Christian? Mom have another 'accident'?" I asked, not bothering to conceal the dripping sarcasm in my voice. He appeared to flinch from my anger, which shocked me enough to shut me up and make me take a better look at him. His head was hung low, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty enough to convince me he had been wearing them for a couple days without washing them, and the sour smell of stale beer and whiskey convinced me he had not washed himself in at least as long. He looked- to borrow one of J.R.'s phrases- like a scalded dog. I almost reached for him, instinctively wanting to reach out and comfort my baby brother whom I had protected most of our lives, but in an instant I recalled who I was dealing with. 'He's not your brother anymore,' I chided myself. I didn't have a brother anymore. This was a ruthless, conniving, cold-hearted stranger. 

I wanted nothing to do with him, now or ever again, and started to tell him so when he pulled something from behind his back. I warily stepped back into a defensive guard position, ready to knock the shit out of him if tried anything again. He held out a small, flat parcel wrapped in cheerful Christmas paper. There was an envelope taped to the top.

"You left the Christmas dinner so fast, I didn't have a chance to give you these," he told me in a quiet voice.

I just stared at him. Did he think I was that gullible? If I reached for the box, he would probably attack me, or some of his cronies would jump out of the bushes and gang up on me. I might not know him like I used to, but I know he has a devious little mind and I wasn't going to fall for anymore of his tricks. I didn't make a move for the package and we just stood there frozen like that for a minute. His blue eyes clouded over with what may have been disappointment and he gave a tiny sigh. He bent over and laid the package and card carefully at my feet. When he straightened up, I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but he turned away so quickly I couldn't be sure. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder.

"Just open it, please. We've never missed giving each other gifts for Christmas."

I watched him as he walked down the drive to where his car was parked, still not making a move to get the box. He reached his car and opened the door, turning to look at me one last time before getting in. 

"Merry Christmas, Edge," he said in a voice so soft that I wasn't even sure I really heard him. Then he climbed in his car and drove away.

I don't know how long I stood there in my doorway, just staring down at his gift, the cold Ontario wind tugging at my hair and turning my skin blue. I shivered in my towel, finally realizing that I had better come in or risk pneumonia. Maybe that was his plan. I reached down and grabbed the box, still staring at it as if it might suddenly sprout fangs.

I stared at the gift some more once I got it inside, guiltily realizing Christian was right. Since he was five years old every year without fail we had saved all our money and bought gifts for each other. I hadn't even considered it this year. I dumped the box on the kitchen table and tried to push the guilt away- of course I hadn't considered it, after all the shit he had done to me last year. The only gift I wanted to give him was another conchairto to his thick skull. I tried to push the box out of mind and go on with a normal day, but every time I passed it, the cheerful wrapping paper would catch my eye. Curiosity finally got the better of me late that evening and after I pulled the envelope from the top of the box, I ripped the paper from the box and opened the lid gingerly. I'm not sure what I was expecting- a poisonous snake, a voodoo doll with my name on it, the head of a dead horse? It was just two photographs in a simple hinged frame.

I bit my lip, tears coming to my eyes. One picture was of me and Christian grinning with our arms around each other. I was wearing a goofy Santa hat and he was wearing a goofier reindeer antler hat. I smiled, remembering that Christmas. Our first together after joining forces in the WWF and going out on our own. We were standing in front of the new house we had bought each other for Christmas, the same house I was still living in, in fact. The picture in the other frame was from a Christmas Eve much longer ago. It was me at three years old, sitting in my mom's lap in front of the tree, Dad with his arm around her and my small little hand on her tummy, where I knew my soon to be born baby brother was waiting. 

I was too young to remember that, of course, but I had heard the story so often growing up that it seemed like an actual memory. Dad had asked me what I wanted Santa to bring me for Christmas, and I told him the only thing I wanted was a brother to play with. Dad said he wasn't sure if Santa could manage that, since Mom had been told many years ago that she would never be able to have children. They had tried for three years before she finally had me, and they certainly had never expected to be able to have more. Then Mom said that it would be a few months late, but Santa would bring me a baby brother. Dad's face had lit up like the Christmas tree- it was the first time he had heard the news, and that sappy story had kept the entire family 'awwing' for years. Grandma Edna insisted on retelling it every Christmas dinner to Christian and I.

I opened the envelope and pulled out what was just a hastily scrawled note:

_ Please meet me at 8:00 tonight.  
You know where. _

I did know where. I glanced at my watch- already five past eight, and it would take me ten minutes to get there, assuming I even wanted to trust him one last time, which I wasn't sure I did. I sat at the table with my head in my hands, looking back and forth from the pictures to the note. What was he up to now? Hadn't he humiliated me enough, hurt me enough? Part of me had died inside when he turned on me; I wondered if he could even understand that no amount of physical torment he could serve up would ever hurt as bad as the pain I had felt when he left me. He had already broken my heart; maybe he just wouldn't be satisfied until he had broken my body as well. Screw him. I stood up and poured myself a drink, thinking I would just stay drunk off my ass until I had to go back to work on Thursday's live Smackdown.

[Who's Got My Back?]  
_ Run...hide  
All that was sacred to us...  
See the signs  
The covenant has been broken  
By mankind  
Leaving us with no shoulder...  
To rest our head on...  
  
Who's got my back now?  
When all we have left is deceptive  
So disconnected  
So what is the truth now?  
  
There's still time  
All that has been devastated  
Can be recreated  
Realize  
We pick up the broken pieces  
Of our lives  
Giving ourselves to each other...  
To rest our head on...  
  
Who's got my back now?  
When all we have left is deceptive  
So disconnected  
So what is the truth now?  
  
Tell me the truth now...Tell us the truth now  
_   
  
  



	2. Christian's POV

Title: Living For You  
Rating: PG-13 (angst, language, suicide, character death)  
Disclaimer: E&C don't belong to me- apparently Santa didn't get my Christmas list. All lyrics copyright of Creed (gotta love that angsty Scott Stapp) Used without permission.  
  


**Part 2**  
**Christian** 

I looked at my watch again, for the fifth time in as many minutes. Eight-thirty now. For some reason, for the sake of my own sanity, probably, I had convinced myself that he would come. That it would be as easy as a few pictures and well-chosen words to erase all the hurt and pain I had caused him. Now reality was intruding once again and I knew it was over. I had lost my brother forever. Worse, I had no one but myself to blame for it. I kept seeing his face over and over again, the hatred in his eyes when I had surprised the whole family by showing up for Christmas dinner like nothing had ever happened between Edge and me. Part of me had hoped that if I pretended nothing had happened, then we could put it all behind us. Stupid, I know. I hadn't even made it all the way to the table before he stood up, cursing and saying that he wouldn't eat in the same house with me. Mom started crying, telling him I was his brother, for god sakes.

_"I don't have a brother anymore."_

I could still hear his reply echoing in my head, stinging a little more each time his words repeated. He had stood up and stormed past me toward the door, but stopped and turned when he reached me, as if daring me to try and hit him. I didn't move a muscle, I couldn't. I didn't want to fight anymore; I just wanted it to all be over. I just wanted my brother back. I had that smirk on my face, I know I did. I couldn't help it, like some sadistic part of me had to prove that his words didn't hurt me, I had to pretend I didn't care.

I looked down at my watch again. Quarter to nine. Snow started to fall. I looked out over the pedestrian bridge I was standing on to the town lights along the riverbank. When we were kids, Edge and I used to come out here to see the town's riverfront Christmas lights every winter night until they were taken down. It was only a short walk from the house where we had grown up together, and we would stand out here for hours with our arms around each other, not needing to speak, just happy in each other's company.

Jesus, God. What the hell was I thinking? Something had snapped in me that night. After all the years of hard work; the blood, the sweat, the tears- I should have been happy for him, watching him stand there with the second most important title in the business in his hands. But instead all I could think of was what about me? All my life it's been Edge. Edge and his sidekick, his brother Christian. I can't explain, and I'm done trying to excuse it. I just wanted some of the spotlight for once. I wanted everybody to see me- just me, just Christian. Not Edge and Christian, not Edge's little brother Christian. Just me. I thought that once I was on my own people would finally have to recognize me. I thought it would finally give me the chance to prove that I was as good as him. That if people could see me without him- just for a while- then they would realize that they were underestimating me and I would finally get some of the respect and admiration he had.

I looked around me, down the length of the bridge, but it was empty save for me. Most of the town spent their winter nights below on the river's ice. I leaned over, watching the families play. Parents teaching their little ones to skate for the first time; the older kids starting up an impromptu game of hockey. Ten after nine, now. Over an hour, and he's never been late in his life. Gingerly, I climbed up onto the wide cement railing and stood there looking downriver at the small figures skating across the smooth ice, their screams and laughter just barely reaching my ears before the wind tugged it away. God I'm sorry, Edge. I didn't mean for it to be this way. I didn't mean for it to go so far.

  
[One Last Breath]  
_Please come now I think I'm falling  
I'm holding on to all I think is safe  
It seems I found the road to nowhere  
And I'm trying to escape  
I yelled back when I heard thunder  
But I'm down to one last breath  
And with it let me say  
Let me say  
  
Hold me now  
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking  
That maybe six feet  
Ain't so far down  
  
I'm looking down now that it's over  
Reflecting on all of my mistakes  
I thought I found the road to somewhere  
Somewhere in His grace  
I cried out heaven save me  
But I'm down to one last breath  
And with it let me say  
Let me say  
  
Hold me now  
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking  
That maybe six feet  
Ain't so far down  
  
I'm so far down  
  
Sad eyes follow me  
But I still believe there's something left for me  
So please come stay with me  
'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me  
For you and me  
  
Hold me now  
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking  
  
Please come now I think I'm falling  
I'm holding on to all I think is safe  
  
_   
  



	3. Back to Edge

Title: Living For You  
Rating: PG-13 (angst, language, suicide, character death)  
Disclaimer: E&C don't belong to me- apparently Santa didn't get my Christmas list. All lyrics copyright of Creed (gotta love that angsty Scott Stapp) Used without permission.  
  


**Part 3**  
**Edge** 

Sometime just before nine I finally gave into my conscience. After all, it was a new year, right? Turning over a new leaf and all that. Yeah, right. I rooted around in the garage and pulled out a lead pipe, tucking it inside my jacket before hopping in my truck. Just in case, I told myself. Yeah, right. Truth be told, I didn't really want to fight Christian anymore. Yeah, I talked a good game, convinced myself that I was going down there to kick his ass, but fighting him made me feel more miserable inside than anything I felt on the outside. 

Have you ever gotten one of those ass-whuppings from your parents- the kind where they sit you down beforehand and explain to you how this is going to hurt them more than it'll hurt you? I could have told Christian that with a straight face and meant every word of it; because inside part of me knew he had been right when he had accused me of jealousy. People had just brushed it off as bitter ramblings of a jealous little brother. Edge jealous of Christian? Not likely. But he had come closer to the truth than any of them had suspected. See, Christian said that all his life its been Edge, Edge, Edge; but all my life its been _Christian_. He was the miracle baby; conceived unexpectedly, born far too early, not expected to survive his first week of life. When he was only two weeks old they took him off life-support and let me into the neo-natal intensive care unit, where kids weren't usually allowed, so I could meet my little brother and say good-bye to him. _Live for me_, I had begged him instead. And he had. From the first time they were finally able to bring him home from the hospital my parents were going on about how I would need to take care of Christian. _Look out for your baby brother, Edge_. They needn't have asked, there was nothing I wanted to do more.

Everything he did was so much greater in their eyes because of the simple fact that he wasn't supposed to have been able to survive, let alone run, play hockey, or wrestle. And I didn't mind, believe it or not. I stood up for him, he got into fights and I was there for him, helping however I could. We were together and that's the way it was supposed to be, Edge and Christian. But he was right, in a way. I just couldn't stand the thought of him as WCW champion; I was tired of coming to his rescue. I was always there for him like a good brother and where had it gotten me? He wanted to be a singles champion- let him do it on his own for once. Some might say that's the way it should be, let him fight his own fights, but they're wrong. We were supposed to have each other's backs- Edge and Christian. Forever. No matter how much he hated me, I hated myself more for letting him down. I felt guilty, and somewhere along the line that guilt changed into anger. So we took out a lifetime of resentments on each other; it spiraled out of control and neither of us knew how to stop it.

Now, not quite ten minutes later, I parked my truck a short distance from the bridge, thinking that if Christian had any friends hanging around it would be easier for me to sneak away unnoticed if I was on foot. I wasn't even sure if he would still be there, it was well over an hour after he asked me to meet him, but I gripped the lead pipe inside my coat and trudged through the knee-deep snow. I was determined to see this thing through to the end, one way or another. 

For a split second I thought the bridge was empty, I couldn't see anything except the heavily falling snow, it was like being inside one of those snow globes. Then I saw him. He was standing on the railing of the bridge, looking out over the river, facing away from me. His long, blonde hair was loose and swept off his shoulders by the gusting wind. A nearby lamppost illuminated him from above, and my breath caught in my throat. He looked like an angel. My feet stopped of their own accord, and I just stood there watching, breathless, as he spread his arms outwards like a bird spreading its wings for the first time.

I don't think I realized what he was doing at first, then it hit me with a dread certainty. I lurched into a clumsy run, stumbling in the deep drifts of snow. He leaned forward and I tried to call his name, but all that would come out was a dry sort of croak. Maybe he heard me anyway, or maybe he wanted to hear me so badly he just _imagined_ that he did. He turned his head to look at me and I will never forget that look on his face for the rest of my life- fear, sadness, regret, but most of all joy. He was happy to see me. After all he had done to me- all we had done to each other- my little brother was happy to see me again. You could have lit up half of downtown with the grin on my face. Christian turned to jump back down onto the bridge and slipped. He slipped. My knees went weak and gave way as I watched him fall backward over the railing and out of sight.

I think I screamed. Hell, I know I screamed. I tried to run to him, but I couldn't get up. It felt like there was a weight crushing me, nearly pinning me to the ground, my heart was slamming in my chest but I couldn't draw in enough air. My head was swimming and for a minute I was afraid I would black out, but somehow I was able to make it back to my feet and I half crawled, half ran through the snow to the bridge. I reached the spot where I had last seen him and slammed to a stop, leaning as far over the railing as I could. He was still there, dangling quietly and looking up at me. Relief flooded through my veins before I realized the precariousness of his position. He was barely hanging onto the rails by his fingertips, all of his concentration working to keep his hold on the icy cement. And he just looked at me, a child-like look of wonder and surprise playing across his features.

"You came." he said, quietly. He might have been commenting on the weather from his tone of voice.

Of all the things to say. Not "Help me" or "I can't hold on" or even "I'm sorry". Just "You came".

"Christian, baby, just hold on. Please." He was the one dangling from a bridge and I was the one with the hysterical voice. I reached over the railing for him, but even my long arms were far too short to reach him. Looking over his head I could see figures on the ice skating toward us, pointing up and yelling. I crawled onto the railing and reached down again. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized how asinine that was, common sense told me that once he let go of his hold and grabbed onto me, his weight would pull both of us down, but I didn't care. I hadn't gotten my brother back just to loose him again so quickly. I grabbed onto his wrists and tried to pull him upward. He wouldn't let go of his grip on the rails.

"Edge..." he whispered.

"Just grab onto me, Christian." He shook his head.

"It won't work; we'll both fall."

"I don't care!" I shouted at him. I let go of him for a second to search for a better brace for my feet, he saw me let him go and he let go of the railing, tumbling backward, refusing to pull us both down. I didn't even hesitate, I just dove for him, my hands grabbing for and catching his hands just before he moved out of reach. My knees scraped the concrete and ice as his weight pulled me down, then I was free of the bridge and we were both falling, rushing toward the icy river below. I remember telling myself that the ice was thick, but not thick enough to hold either of us falling from that height. I remember telling myself that I was going to die. And there was nothing- no bright, heavenly light, no dead relatives waiting to greet me. I didn't see my life flash before my eyes. I only saw Christian in my arms. I remember he smiled at me, and I smiled back. It was like flying. Then we hit the ice and crashed through. And there was pain like nothing I had ever felt before. And cold. So cold... Time passed, darkness came... 

~~~*****~~~

And then there was a light, and Christian's face leaning over mine, hair like a golden halo framing his face. I could see other faces in the background, people bustling around purposefully. I could hear the humming and beeping of machinery and the strong smell of antiseptic invaded my awareness. I squinted up at Christian against the bright hospital lights. So, we had made it- somehow against the odds we had both made it. I reached for him, but I was so tired, my body felt so weak. He took my hand and held it in his two. 

"I missed you," I whispered weakly. He smiled... brushed his lips across my hand... I sighed and let the darkness reclaim me...

[My Sacrifice]  
_Hello my friend we meet again  
It's been a while where should we begin...feels like forever  
Within my heart are memories  
Of perfect love that you gave to me  
I remember  
  
When you are with me  
I'm free...I'm careless...I believe  
Above all the others we'll fly  
This brings tears to my eyes  
My sacrifice  
  
We've seen our share of ups and downs  
Oh how quickly life can turn around in an instant  
It feels so good to reunite  
Within yourself and within your mind  
Let's find peace there  
  
When you are with me  
I'm free...I'm careless...I believe  
Above all the others we'll fly  
This brings tears to my eyes  
My sacrifice  
_   
  



	4. Christian Again

Title: Living For You  
Rating: PG-13 (angst, language, suicide, character death)  
Disclaimer: E&C don't belong to me- apparently Santa didn't get my Christmas list. All lyrics copyright of Creed (gotta love that angsty Scott Stapp) Used without permission.  
  


**Part 4**  
**Christian** 

I held him like that for hours, his hand in mine. I leaned down and brushed his hair from his face and whispered to him while he fought for his life. I told him how much I loved him, how sorry I was for everything I had done, how I would make it all up to him if he would just hang on... For hours I talked to him like that, watching his life slip away; I was still holding his hand as the heart monitor flat lined. I didn't cry, I just kept talking to him, just kept telling him that I loved him, telling him I was sorry, like a sacred mantra that would bring him back if only I repeated it enough. One of the nurses finally pulled me away and then the tears came... they had to sedate me eventually and take me back to my own room. He shouldn't have died; I was the idiot trying to kill myself, why should it have taken them so long to find him under the ice when I popped back up right away? The sedatives took effect and I blacked out in my hospital bed.

~~~*****~~~

I suppose they thought they had plenty of time before the drugs wore off to come and check on my mental condition. There weren't really any sharp objects around anyway, so I suppose they thought they didn't have to worry. I suppose they didn't realize I had already tried to kill myself once that night...

I woke up in a dark and empty room, alone again. It seemed like I had been alone for so long, but for one brief moment on that bridge when something made me turn my head at the last minute and I had seen Edge- when he smiled at me- I thought that the loneliness was gone. For one brief moment, I thought I had gotten the only Christmas present I had wished for this year- I thought I had gotten my brother back.

My pillow was wet, I was crying again. My nose was stuffy and my head felt two sizes too small. I pushed the covers to the side and staggered to my feet, the sedatives were still heavy in my veins and caused me to wobble as I made my way slowly to the bathroom. Bumps and bruises. Edge dies, and that's all I'd come away with. I had to stay overnight for observation, but he would never come home again. Somehow he'd twisted our bodies around in midair, maneuvering under me so that he'd absorbed most of the impact when we had landed. Again I'd lost my brother, and again I had only myself to blame.

I didn't bother to turn the light on the bathroom, or to shut the door behind me. I looked at myself in the dark mirror over the sink. Then I went back out into the room and looked around, my eyes falling on the small lump made by Edge's coat. I remembered it had felt heavy. I picked it up and felt inside the large inner pocket, pulling out the lead pipe he had concealed in there and glancing it over. I didn't blame him for that, its no less than I would have done had it been me. How he had even trusted me enough to come down there in the first place was beyond me. Not after everything I had done to him. I shifted the pipe from hand to hand, testing its weight, and shuffled back to the bathroom with it, this time flipping on the light and closing and locking the door behind me.

As weak and groggy as I was from the sedatives, it took three blows to the mirror before a few shards finally fell into the sink. I picked one up and examined the sharp edges it made. I dragged it across one wrist and watched the blood well up and fountain over my arm and onto the clean white floor. I started to shake. I tried to transfer the piece of mirror to the other hand, but my hands were trembling too badly and I dropped it. It flew across the floor and shattered into hundreds of tinier, worthless pieces.

Somebody outside called my name. I picked up another larger piece from the sink and pressed down firmly, dragging it across the other wrist. Somebody banged on the bathroom door, calling my name again. The second cut began to spurt. I collapsed onto the floor, smearing the blood that was pooling there already. Again they banged on the door, then it shuddered with the force of somebody trying to break it open. I scooted across the floor and leaned back against it heavily, closing my eyes and panting with exhaustion. My ears were ringing, I noticed the first wrist had begun to bleed more heavily from my exertion.

"Christian, don't do this," a voice next to me said. I opened my eyes slightly to look at Edge. I tried to say something, but I couldn't speak, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the door. He touched my cheek... I felt something touch my cheek. How could he touch me if he was dead? I was tired... the sedatives, blood loss. The door shuddered again. I just wanted to go to sleep...

"You can't do this Christian. Mom and Dad are on their way here; you can't do this to them," he grabbed my arms at the wrists and held them there. I opened my eyes and watched him. He wasn't quite solid, didn't look quite real. Of course he didn't, he was dead. I noticed that when he touched me, the blood flow slowed down significantly. I tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let me out of his grip. It was like being touched by warm light. The door shuddered again, this time cracking open and pushing me forward about an inch. I looked at Edge again. He looked like he was fading now. He touched my face, brushing his fingertips across my lips. I started crying again.

"Take me with you, please Edge," I reached for him, but my arm went through him. He smiled down at me sadly, just a ghost of his famous smile. The door heaved again and I was pushed forward another inch. "I just wanna be with you... take me with you."

He leaned over, fading rapidly and so transparent he was barely visible, and kissed me. I moaned out loud, it was like tasting and touching the warmest, purest, sweetest light imaginable.

"_Live for me_," he whispered and then his voice faded too and he was gone. The door was shoved open violently, pushing me across the room. Nurses and orderlies rushed in, surveying the damage and quickly bandaged my bleeding wrists, then hurried me off to the emergency room. I wanted to die... I wanted to be with my brother again. I cried for them to leave me alone, to let me go, but nobody would listen. My brother had given his life for me... but I would have given my own to bring him back.

~~~*****~~~

... time passes slowly. The deepest wounds heal even slower. They say time heals all wounds, but it will never heal this emptiness inside. I can barely even make out the faint scars that mar my wrists anymore, but the scars inside are still livid and fresh. I missed your funeral, locked away in a padded room with a single small window too high for me to reach. It was months before I could face the fact that you were truly gone and I was on my own for the first time in my life. How many more times did I try to end that life? I lost count. It was many more months before I could even begin to think about taking your final request to heart. I lived, but only reluctantly. 

It's early October now, fall is exploding with color and all around me everything is celebrating life in the face of the encroaching death of winter. And now I begin to understand what you wanted. As I stand beside your grave, a gentle autumn wind plays with my hair and for a moment in the soft sigh and rustle of the leaves overhead I think I can hear your voice calling softly to me. _Live for me, baby brother_. Don't just survive, live. I will live for you Edge, and you will live in me.

[Hide]  
_To what do I owe this gift my friend?  
My life, my love, my soul?  
I've been dancing with the devil for way too long  
And its making me grow old  
Making me grow old  
  
Let's leave- oh let's get away  
Get lost in time  
Where there's no reason left to hide  
  
Let's leave- oh let's get away  
Run in fields of time  
Where there's no reason left to hide  
No reason to hide  
  
What are you gonna do with your gift dear child?  
Give life, give love, give soul  
Divided is the one who dances  
For the soul is so exposed  
So exposed  
  
Let's leave all this and get away  
Get lost in time  
Where theres no reason left to hide  
  
Let's leave- oh let's get away  
Run in fields of time  
Where there's no reason left to hide  
No reason to hide  
  
There is no reason to hide...  
  
_

**~~The End~~**

  
  



End file.
